Death is Forever

twice as heavy as it had been when they’d first descended its slippery rungs less than an hour ago.
    “I’ll tie the rucksack to my ankle and drag it up after me,” Cole said loudly.
    “Don’t be silly.” Erin shifted her shoulders beneath the rucksack’s nylon webbing straps. “The ladder will be tough enough to keep your balance on without having the rucksack pull a foot out from under you. And I’ve carried packs heavier than this one. It can’t weigh more than twenty pounds.”
    He gave her a worried look. She was shaking from the cold and from the knowledge that the lowest crawl space they had negotiated was more than half full of water and rising quickly. If they’d spent another half hour in the jewel box, they wouldn’t have gotten out until the water level dropped again.
    If ever.
    “I’ll go first,” he said. “If your lamp goes out again, I’ll be able to light the way for you. But don’t wait long. You could drown climbing up that narrow shaft. If you get hung up, shrug your shoulders. If that doesn’t work, breathe out and shrug again. If that doesn’t work, back up, leave the rucksack at the bottom, and I’ll bring it up. Understand me?”
    She nodded, sending her light bobbing.
    Turning his face to the side so that he could breathe beneath the pouring water, Cole went up the first rungs of the ladder. The runoff this close to the surface was cloudy and felt almost warm by comparison to the water down below. Ignoring the scrape of stone over bare skin, he went up the ladder on a single breath and lifted himself out onto the limestone floor. He jackknifed around and looked back into the hole.
    “Up!” he called.
    Taking a deep breath, Erin turned her head aside and fought her way up the ladder as water pounded over her, trying to drive her back down into the cave. Her cold hands locked around metal rungs, holding her against the water. The ladder shivered and rattled from the force of the runoff. She climbed two more rungs, driving herself upward into the narrowest part of the shaft.
    When she tried to go up one more rung, she couldn’t. She reached behind her back, shoving candy tins away from whatever had caught the rucksack.
    Beneath her fist, a rusted tin crumpled. Diamonds poured down into the bottom of the rucksack. She lunged upward, only to be snagged again. She tried to struggle out of the straps. She couldn’t.
    Water beat down on her, not enough air to breathe.
    Fear raced through her. Around her the shaft was filling with water. Her body and the pack were acting like a cork, keeping most of the runoff from draining.
    If she didn’t move, she’d drown.
    She bucked against the sack, using the strength of her legs to drive her body back against the hard stone. More tins gave way, their rusted seams no match for her frightened struggles, but it wasn’t enough to free her.
    Shrug.
    Cole’s advice came back to Erin as clearly as if he was standing next to her. She drew her shoulders forward and arched her body, trying to slip past the obstruction. When that didn’t work she forced herself to relax and let all the air out of her lungs. Another tin shifted, but it wasn’t enough to free her.
    She rolled to one side. It didn’t help. She rolled the other way. The contents of the pack shifted, giving a few inches. Aching for air yet afraid to breathe, she rolled farther.
    Suddenly she was free. She went up rungs in a tumbling rush.
    Cole’s hands clamped beneath her arms as he pulled her upper body over the lip. She lay half in, half out of the hole, gasping for air.
    “Are you all right?” he asked urgently.
    She nodded. No light moved at the gesture. Her lamp had gone out again. He tried to light it, couldn’t, and took off his own.
    “Here,” he said, switching helmets with her, adjusting straps quickly. “It’s just a short way to the entrance.”
    The passage was too small for Erin to squeeze past Cole. He jackknifed again, turned around, and crawled until he could duck-walk, using the light cast from her helmet to pick his way through the narrow cleft. His shadow loomed hugely ahead of him as it slid over and around the rough limestone, flickering with every motion he made.
    That sliding, uncertain shadow saved his life.
    Jason Street’s blow landed on the back of Cole’s skull with stunning, rather than crushing, force. Cole had just enough awareness to fall bonelessly, sprawling with his left hand underneath his body, concealing the wrist sheath he